Upside Down
by Wolkov
Summary: Everybody knew Hirako Shinji to be comical. Everybody also knew him to be deadly. The latter was never provoked, but Shigeta Akira, a human, challenges even the most darkest and sinister part of his personality, and Shinji suddenly finds himself reacting with emotions he thought were long dead. He'd do anything to silence them, and yet he finds himself losing that war... Shinji/OC


**AN:** _What? Another fanfic? That's not me, that's you. Oh, shizzle dizzle._

 _Anyhoo. This fanfic has been inspired by a challenge set by lisamariem; she's a fellow Fanfiction member and a total fan of Shinji. Her contest is basically about writing fics for our boy Shinji and whosoever wins will get a gift. For more information, you can contact her._

 _Other than that, I absolutely fell in love with this story, and will have a grand time writing it. (Fingers crossed)._

Upside Down

Chapter One

Kicking her leg up, down, then up again, Shigeta Akira excercised in the gym. She threw her arms in the air and, slightly squatting, vigorously rolled her hips. Okay, fine. She wasn't exercising. She was dancing.

Earbuds plugged to her ear, volume high, she gave her head a few shakes to the right and left, and then skipped across the finely polished gym floor. So much fun!

Coming up behind Hanae, she mimicked the act of slapping her ass as her BFF walked the treadmill. From the wide mirror in front of them, she could see her roll her eyes. That only encouraged her to hump her. Hanae laughed, swatting her hands away from her hips.

"Stop!" She thought she saw her friend mouth. Akira merely blew her kiss, returning to her unmethodical passionate dances.

As the fast, rhythmical song ended, her iPod shuffled it to a slightly slower one. Her eyebrows shot up. "Ooooh! I love this song— And another one bites the du _sssss_ t, why cannot I conquer _lavv_?" Using her iPod as a microphone, she gave a dramatic performance in the middle of the gym by splaying her arms wide open.

As Hanae did what they originally came here to do—work out, that is—Akira concluded listening to some music would help ease the agony of this boring of a hang out. Not even a song down, and she was already dropping some sick moves. It was also the most perfect song for the moment. What? Her iPod sensed when she was in distress.

Now, losing interest in singing, she hopped around in her spot as if in a club. Jump-twirling, she broadly smiled at her own childishness. As the room began to quickly whizz about her, her head spinning, she felt her stomach slightly curl in, but she paid it no heed. This was fun! Fun, fun, fun—

A flash of blond hair and a wide, cheeky smile darted past her in her twirling state, and she typically reacted a heartbeat later, leaping a feet higher while releasing, she presumed, the world's loudest and animalistic scream. In her descent, her ankle twisted, and she slammed down on the wooden floor, her earbuds falling out in the process.

A thick, throaty laugh that came out more as a chuckle, reverberated around the room. Akira immediately recognized it, and her already thumping heart increased its pace, literally thudding against her ribs. Her eyes snapped up, landing on the most glorious manifestation of the male specimen—Hirako Shinji.

Possessing jaw-length blond hair with a straight cut and asymmetrical bangs that leaned more to the left, brown eyes, a straight nose and pink lips revealing his straight upper teeth, he was truly a sight to behold. God surely must have taken His time with his appearance, but his time on Earth, the Devil most assuredly with his personality.

He'd apparently ditched his Captain's uniform for a black Bengal-striped shirt that had its sleeves rolled up, revealing slender yet full and toned forearms, black trousers that hugged his slim waist, a leather belt, and casual black Upanah shoes that bordered close to sneakers. He also had a simple black tie roping around his neck. It only made him look more appealing. And having been gone for quite a long span of time, his new look only appeased to her more gnawingly.

"Aw, now why'd ye stop, darlin'?" Shinji questioned, his smile curling more wickedly around the edges. "I was havin' such a blast watching ye."

She flushed, further reddening her perspired appearance, she was sure. At his bold words, butterflies took flight in her belly. To mask the affects he was causing her by just being proximate to her, she narrowed her eyes. "To deny you the pleasure, of course."

"Hmm?" He crouched, his lean form filling her vision, his wide smile all she could see. Concentrate on. Despite his aggravating personality, he had this sweet scent to him; the scents of pines and oranges. An odd combination, but on him, the spice and sweetness of it moulded perfectly with his body heat, and it took every ounce of restriction in her not to bite down on her lower lip.

Yes, she had the biggest and the stupidest crush on him.

He didn't know of it, of course. And she wouldn't snitch on herself, most definitely. She'd take this secret to her grave like the perfect human being she was. But, oh, looking at his face now, she wished she had the gal to take him all to herself. He would be hers to do as she desired; to kiss, to touch, to explore, both the emotional and physical. She didn't mind using her tongue on the latter.

Uh-uh, time to draw the line, Ms. Shigeta.

"Denyin' me, as ye will learn in the near future, is unhealthy. But _thas_ quite alright," he side-smiled, "I got meself some sneak-peak on the little nip-slip ye displayed earlier."

Akira gasped, her face immediately jerking down and her hands immediately rushing up to cover the exposure. Only, her boobs were safely tucked behind the black sports bra she wore. A slender finger suddenly came to chuck her under her nose, and she started at the action. Then, glaring up at Shinji and at the stupid smile still plastered on his face, she gritted out. "That's not funny." And as much as she wanted to hit him, she battled with the emotion that found him to be so adoringly irritating.

He shrugged, then rose, extending his palm to her. "That's only because ya are no fun."

"Oh, please," she started, curling her fingers around his hand and attempting her best not to fist-pump the air at the single touch. Instead, she held onto her iPod tightly. "Didn't you see me dance? I'm the best."

"Dance? That was a dance? Ya looked like ya were tryin' to hold in yer pee in the waiting line to the restroom."

This time, she hit him square on the shoulder, and her knuckles cracked and she winced. Seriously, he might be lean, but all the aloof, goody-goody presumptions failed when it narrowed down to those rock-hard muscles underneath his clothes. He chuckled, taking a merciful step back at the impact. But she acknowledged it to be on purpose, because God knew, even if a truck struck him, he'd merely rise, brush at his shoulders, mutter something about reckless driving, and keep on walking.

She'd be exaggerating if she didn't witness it in the front row seat. One can safely say she nearly shat her beating organ out.

"What are you doing here, anyway?" she chose to question, the revelation of her hand resting on his still setting off the wires in her brain and frying it.

He lifted her arm and, without so much a word, Akira immediately understood his motives. He turned her in his arms, and she allowed the act. Coming back to face him anew, she offered a small smile. He let go of her completely then, and she nearly pouted at the loss of contact.

Shinji thumbed his left side. "The Captain of the 6th Division deemed it wise to give his woman a visit in the Material World, and I, well, followed him."

Akira's head turned to where Hanae still walked the treadmill, but this time she saw the noble Kuchiki Byakuya stand by her side. From the mirror in front of them, she could see the calculating look on his face as he scrutinized the speed, and nearly smiled when he attempted to increase the pace and Hanae, mimicking a lion's growling expression, responded by threatening to bite his fingers off. His lashes fused together, but before they could completely shield his grey orbs, she saw something dark and hungry awaken in them. And, wow, okay, his visit suddenly made more sense now!

Clearing her throat, she chose to instead focus on Shinji—who was studying her with an ever amused grin on his face.

Almost immediately she became flustered, and rubbed her nape. "W-What?" she blurted out. One thing she feared the most in him—aside every aspect of him, but this being the most—was his ability to read her and pin her to the wall like a bug better than anyone ever did in her life—even Hanae.

But now, knowing she had done nothing wrong for him to evoke uneasiness in her, she still licked her lips. Clearing her throat, she chose to change the topic. "Well, I don't care if you came here on business or boredom. This is my time with my bestie and I'm not going to take kindly on those who think it's cute to intervene. She's _mine_ for the time being."

Shinji put his hands up in a sheepish shrug, his eyes taking a bored expression. "'Tis not me ye should whine at; I ain't here for yer girlfriend. But he is." He pointed yet again at Kuchiki Byakuya.

Just before she could respond, Akira spotted Hanae approaching her. Her expression was gradually turning into something apologetic with each step she took. Uh-Uh.

"Please, please, please, please don't be mad but I have to go," she said, smacking her palms together before her chest in a repentant manner.

Akira frowned. "Just for tonight?"

That apologetic smile of hers grew. "No...?"

Akira started. "Wait. Are you leaving me? Alone? _Again_?"

Hanae pressed her lips together. That only inspired Akira's infamous temper to surface. " _ **Again**_?" she gritted out for emphasis. "But you can't. We just started our week together. We have so much to do. Like, partying, going to clubs, getting drunk, having a movie night, a pillow fight where I smother you to death, and a house party with cop strippers—" She immediately caught Kuchiki Byakuya's cutting gaze and hastened to correct herself. "I meant with _female_ cop strippers. It'll be so much fun. _Pleeease_ ," she whined. "Don't go. I pinky promise I'll keep myself in check and not get into bar fights when we go out drinking."

At her last sentence, she thought she noticed Shinji straighten a little, but paid it no heed. Her pleading gaze was on her best friend.

Hanae pouted. "I don't want to leave but I must. So much work awaits me and something came up that needs my immediate attention. I swear to you that that is only reason."

"More attention than the chocolate cake with melted fudge atop it and crumbled cookies in-between its layers would need it?" Yes, she hit her best friend right in her weak spot.

Hanae gasped in horror, and suddenly looked torn. She could even see the first signs of drool forming in the corner of her mouth. "No... You did not just pull the cake card on me. You know how much I love your homemade chocolate cookie cakes!"

Akira shrugged. "Duh. That's the whole point."

Hanae whimpered, tossing a puppy-eyed look at Kuchiki Byakuya—to which the Shinigami merely closed his eyes. Akira didn't know if that was an indirect strong No or because he knew he'd cave under her pleading gaze and let her have her way if he continued staring. Oddly, Akira concluded it to be the latter. Sighing, Hanae turned to face Akira.

"You know I love you, right?"

"Fudge balls!" Akira stomped her foot on the ground. She'd come so close to winning! "Fine. Leave."

Hanae stretched her arms and hugged her before she could protest. "Don't be like that. I'll come back, and I promise I'll make up for all the time I've lost. Oh, and, when I do return, I'll bring you a weapon. A sword this time. Would you like that?"

Like the three times before that? Hell yeah! She already had a throwing spear and a shield hanging on her living room wall, and now she'd have a sword to add to her collection. And, blimey, her best friend knew her too well. Unlike her, she caved. "Okay," she mumbled into her coppery-red hair that smelled of wild strawberries. "You win."

Laughing, Hanae withdrew and planted a quick kiss on her lips. "I'll miss you, wifey. Take care while I'm gone. And no bar fights!" she added, and then gave her attention to Shinji. "Accompany her, please. And don't let her out of your sight."

Wait, what? "What are you talking about?"

Shinji merely grinned wide.

Hanae focused back on her, and gave one of her shoulders a light shrug. "You can see through the plans we made for the whole week with Captain Hirako Shinji. He'll accompany you, and I know it'll be a total waste of money for the tickets you bought for the movie if I won't come."

Akira abruptly retaliated. "Wait— But—!"

A strong arm wrapped around her shoulders, and she was tugged into the embrace of the cheekily smiling Shinji as he ever so bluntly interrupted her. "No worries, I'll make sure to order some sweet popcorn."

At the confirmation, Hanae's face brightened. "I'm so glad! Okay, take care then, both of you!" Giving Akira's hand a tight squeeze, she turned and followed Kuchiki Byakuya. Right before them, the gate called Senkaimon materialized, and both figures walked into it, Hanae tossing Akira a final smile before the doors closed shut. And then they were gone.

She was alone.

With Shinji.

At that registration of information, Akira bolted into action, almost hastily stepping away from his painfully present form.

A _whole_ week alone with him? A whole week with the one person her entire bodily functions stopped working when coming into contact?

Amused, his eyes gleaming with the ever present daringness that bordered close to insanity, he arched a brow at her. "Ya~ Whaddaya say we go to a strip club?"

Akira, dumbfounded, blinked at him. Then pursed her lips. "Sure. Let me just bathe and change out of my clothes." Just as she was bypassing him, he gave the waistband of her long spandex a playful tug. A smacking sound resounded, and she gasped, looking at him over her shoulder as her hand immediately flew to her waist for coverage.

"Ye look fine like this," he slurred out in his lazy accent, his eyes scanning her over, but she could still spot the friskiness in his brown orbs.

Not knowing whether to smile or be shocked, she merely shook her head at him in incredulity. "You're such a shit face."

He moaned at her words, the rich sound unexpectedly thrilling her. "Yes, talk dirty to me."

This time, she laughed. Flipping him off, she strutted to the changing room.

But oh, sweet mercy, somebody please help her; a whole weak with that ambiguous yet comical Shinigami would be the death of her.

-x-

Hirako Shinji, throwing his arms over his head, stretched, and released a loud whiny sound. And then the smile, certainly an essential part of his persona, fell into place on his lips. He grinned, walking over to one of the weight benches and lying down. With one hand, he began lifting, his biceps flexing and un-flexing.

Kuchiki I-Shit-On-Every-Joke Byakuya, approached him a few hours ago in Seireitei in means that he accompany him to the World of the Living. Why? So he could keep this very human, very delicate Shigeta Akira company after he stole his woman away to take care of some business, and knowing how upset little darlin' Hanae would be if her BFF was left alone, Captain Fashion Disaster demanded his replacement.

Yes, you heart it darn right. He outright demanded it. Shinji obviously accepted, and not because he was _sucha_ sissy but because he was utterly bored out of his mind. Did that mean no work awaited him back in Soul Society? He snorted. He had dozens of paperwork to fill, but as the strong 'ole Kenpachi once said, fun comes before work. For once he agreed with his broken philosophy.

But then again, he agreed to Kuchiki's demand by putting his own terms, terms the noble Shinigami was not pleased with. Recalling them, he now smirked. Oh, well. His services came at a price, even when he was free.

He effortlessly tossed the barbell to his other hand, continuing his feeble workout. Maybe he'd pay his good 'ole pal Kisuke a visit. He shrugged, not minding the idea.

From afar, he heard footsteps approach him, and his ears twitched in response. Twirling the barbell with just his fingers, he rose, his eyes falling on the female stationed a few feet away. Unlike her earlier workout outfit, she now sported tight, dark-blue jeans, a white tee, and a black leather jacket. She still had her black Nike sneakers on, and her rich chocolate hair was pulled into a high ponytail above her head.

Ocean-blue eyes stared at him as he rose to his feet with a soft grunt. Placing the barbell on its rightful place, he let his eyes roam over her somewhat chubby physique. But he had to admit, she was round in all the right places, and as he further examined, her legs were shaped and toned despite her weight. She possessed the kind of body that made him want to pinch her sides.

"Lookin' pretty darn good, chic-o," he complimented.

At that, she blushed, and then immediately straightened, clearing her throat. "Do you want to see even better looking chic-o's? Because I do." Her attempts to act nonchalant failed to fool him. He knew this little ball of heart-shaped emotions had a crush on him. But nevertheless, her bravado almost always amused him. And he knew she didn't bluff when wanting to see—in her words—better women. Even though they met a couple of months back, one thing he knew for sure—well, among many other things—was that this girl knew how to have fun. One of the reasons he didn't mind Kuchiki's demand. He needed to unwind.

By that, he most obviously meant partying and getting wasted. His some-some's, he would get elsewhere, away from the human. One, because he was a caring bastard. And two, because murder was not something he was in the mood to deal with. Although now he decided that he wouldn't mind helping her bury the body, and that fateful night would stay as their dirty little secret. Twisted, that he was.

With everyone else, he was a huge, pain-in-the-arse tease, but with her, he always tried to keep the teasing at bay. Well, alrighty. Not _always_. Only when he remembered. But, 'ey, at least he was trying to go the extra mile when he should've given zero fucks with lacy ribbons on top. Maybe it had something to do with that one particular look that graced her eyes ever so often, when she thought she could stare at him without him noticing, that provoked something deep in his chest to not spit on that in any manner. Or at least attempt to. Because, shit, even the dirt underneath his shoes was more deserving of that true genuineness swirling in her eyes than him.

Shinji _tsked_ , slightly frowning. He wasn't a fan of dragging himself through the mud, either. Nevertheless, it was a sticky situation that didn't need any more encouragement.

But here they were going to a strip club.

Shit. He nearly laughed. He was such a contradiction.

Hands in pockets, he walked over to her and, grinning wide, gestured at the exit with a tilt of his chin. "Let's see which one of us can get more lap dances."

Returning his grin with a singular wickedness of her own, she lead the way with a duffel bag hanging over her shoulder.

Watching her back and the little unconscious hops she installed in her steps, he thought maybe a part of him appeased to the notion of actually sharing that dirty little secret with the human. Perhaps many more. Yeah, he was ten types of fucked up.

-x-

 **AN:** _I know, not much of their pasts or how they met or how she's able to see them yada yada were included in this chapter, but they'll be in the next. Review and tell me how you liked it! Toodles~_

 _Oh, and, check out my other Bleach fanfic, Blossom. These two stories are interconnected, so a few events in my Blossom fanfic can be mentioned in this one. Also, I tried not to give away much about Byakuya and Hanae's relationship, and that's the only cameo you'll see of them in this story (hopefully). Well, that's it for now. (:_


End file.
